Sven shook Malcolm awake, pounding the human with his fists for added effect. Malcolm groaned, rolling over to face Sven. Barely opening his eyes, Malcolm peered at Sven with surprise.

“Sven?” Malcolm whispered, barely holding his eyelids up. “Is it morning yet?”

“Listen.” Sven commanded, pressing a finger to Malcolm’s lips. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Malcolm heard it. A faint, high-pitch grinding noise, like two stones rubbing together. The noise wafted gently over the plains, wavering with each gust of wind.

Malcolm stared at Sven, eyes wide. “Is that?”

“Toe-Worm,” Sven replied.

Bolting out of bed, Malcolm rushed for the balcony, stumbling through the doorway. Leaning over the railing, he scanned the horizon. Beyond the walls of the town and the rows of tents stretched the endless rolling hills, barely visible in the dim moonlight. The dark outline of a forest extended to the right, forming a stripe between the grass and the sky.

The ground rumbled slightly, shaking loose some dust from the walls of the room. Far in the distance, the grinding grew louder, rising above the light whistle of the wind.

Sven joined Malcolm on the balcony as the ground shook again, more violently than before. Candles flickered to life among the houses of the town, as people gazed out of windows to investigate. The soldiers too, had felt the shaking and they peered out of their tents, armor-less but clutching their long swords.

The grinding rose in volume, the constant unwavering pitch boring itself into Malcolm’s brain. From within the camp, horns began to blow, waking the troops not yet up. The men poured from their tents, staggering around in the dim torch light.

People screamed as another tremor hit the town, shaking their homes. Malcolm and Sven clung to the doorframe as the balcony trembled, showering dust on the street below. Malcolm pressed his hands over his ears as the grinding noise reached deafening levels.

Crowds flooded the streets as citizens poured from their homes hurrying toward the town gate. From their balcony, Malcolm and Sven watched as the mob swelled, overflowing the cramped Bullhaven streets. With every tremor, the mass screamed, pushing forward with a greater panic.

Suddenly, the rumble and grinding stopped, leaving a void of silence in its wake. The crowd grew silent, staring between each other in confusion.

The quiet was broken as the ground in front of the Inn exploded, sending a plume of debris into the air. The dirt and stone rained down upon the town, smashing through roofs and windows. Malcolm ducked as a paving stone whizzed past his head, punching a hole the wall behind him.

The Toe-Worm shot out of the crater, its ribbed tan body towering high above the town. A circular mouth took up the entire front end of its tubular body. Rows of teeth slowly spun, as if connected to spinning rings. From within the depths of its maw slowly emerged a thin, forked tongue, which flicked in the air.

Malcolm tried to retreat into the room, but Sven held him back. “Don’t be movin’. There still be people on the street, and wherever we be goin’, It’ll be followin’. Let them get clear before we be movin’.” Malcolm nodded, glancing down at the street below. Much of the crowd had already fled, but stragglers still flowed from their homes.

The Toe-Worm teetered in the air above town, supported by the lower half of its body that was sunk deep into the ground. Its black tongue wiggled, leading the beast towards the Inn. Bits of dirt and stone rained down from its jaws as it moved, peppering the street with debris. The heat of its breath stung Malcolm’s face, assaulting his nostrils with the stench of dirt and rot.

Malcolm’s instincts screamed at him to run, but he held firm. The last few pedestrians were stumbling down the street, tripping on loose stones in their haste. Almost there… he thought, flexing his legs.

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The Toe-Worm’s long tongue slowly snaked toward the balcony, tapping against the side of the building at times. The Toe-Worm leaned forwards, until its gigantic head was mere feet from the wall of the Inn. With a whirr, its rows of teeth began to spin, spraying Malcolm and Sven with dirt.

Sven tugged Malcolm’s sleeve, pulling him toward the door. “RUN!” The Goblin shouted, running for the door. Malcolm followed, quickly outpacing Sven. Yanking open the door, he raced down the stairs two a time. Sven followed close behind, his short legs struggling with the human-sized steps.

As they reached the bottom of the first flight of steps, the building quaked. Above them, patches of the ceiling disappeared, reveling the open sky above. The crunch of ripping boards filled the air as the Inn shook again, creaking as it settled. Looking up through a hole in the roof, Malcolm could see the Toe-Worm tearing into the roof, long boards grinding between its spinning teeth. With a swift motion, the beast tore a chunk from a wall, flinging it halfway across Bullhaven.

Sven pushed Malcolm along, shoving the human down the next flight of stairs. The common room at the bottom was deserted, illuminated only by the smoldering fire. Coals littered the floor, burning holes in the floorboards.

Pulling open the door, Malcolm and Sven arrived on the empty street. Wood rained from the sky as the Toe-Worm decimated the Inn, tearing it apart chunk by chunk. Long boards torn loose from the Inn’s siding had impaled themselves in the roofs of nearby homes, sticking out like spikes.

With a roar, the Toe-Worm smashed its head into the side of the Inn, knocking out support beams. The Inn teetered for a few seconds, swaying in the air. Then with a deafening crash, it collapsed.

Splinters and dust sprayed from the wreckage, filling the air. Sven crumpled to the ground as a fragment imbedded itself in his thigh. Writhing in pain, he yanked the piece out, tossing it aside. It clattered on the stones, the wood stained dark. Malcolm rushed to his side, coughing as the dust filled his mouth.

“Bandage.” Sven grunted through gritted teeth, his hands pressed tight around the wound. Dark green blood trickled out from between his fingers, dripping on the road.

Kneeling beside the Toe Goblin, Malcolm quickly ripped a few strips from the base of his shirt and bound them around the wound. Sven groaned as the bandages tightened, his eyes watering with pain. The blood seeped through the first few layers of cloth, gradually ceasing as Malcolm frantically added more layers.

Looking up from the wound, Malcolm saw the Toe-Worm picking through the wreckage, its forked tongue writhing above the boards. It’s looking for us! Malcolm realized, turning back to Sven’s leg.

“How…bad…” Sven groaned, eyes pressed shut with agony.

Malcolm finished wrapping his bandage before responding. “Its deep. If I had to guess, there are at least a few severed veins. Can you…”

He was cut off as the Toe-Worm reared up, twisting its head in every direction as its tongue scented the air. Slowly it turned its head toward the street, looming over Malcolm and Sven.

Malcolm dragged Sven down the street as the Toe-Worm dove, plunging its mouth into the street. Its teeth sliced through the flagstones, boring deep into the ground. Within a few seconds the entire length of its body had disappeared into the hole.

The ground shook as the Worm tunneled, shaking down the remaining boards of the Inn. The building was in rubble, reduced to a mere pile of wood. A thin wisp of smoke floated up from deep within the debris, weaving its way through the mess.

Malcolm and Sven watched in horror as flames began to poke out from the pile, slowly growing as they consumed the wreckage. Plumes of black smoke filled the air, gathering high above the blaze.

Coughing, Malcolm leaned over Sven, shielding him from the smoke. “Can you walk?” he asked.

“I be thinkin’ so,” Sven said. Slowly he tried to stand up, leaning on Malcolm’s arm for support. Staggering to his feet, Sven wincing as his injured leg brushed the ground.

Slowly they passed through the narrow streets, making their way towards the gate. The roads were mostly deserted, the inhabitants having already fled the Toe-Worm’s attack.

As they rounded a corner, Sven fell to the ground, groaning and clutching his thigh. The bandages had slipped down, soaking his leg with blood.

Malcolm grimaced as he rebound the wound, pulling the new bandages as tight as possible. Every few seconds, the ground shook, rattling windows.

“Why isn’t the Toe-Worm attacking?” Malcolm asked, pulling the last bandage tight.”

For a few seconds Sven just lay on the stone, chest heaving with every breath. “Needs… to… feed....” he eventually replied. “Have… a… few…minutes…” He lay back as Malcolm finished, taking deep breaths.

Malcolm paced back and forth, glancing up and down the deserted street. He wiped his hands on his pants as he walked, leaving long green stains down each leg.

“Keep moving…” Sven groaned. Nodding, Malcolm helped him up, and they set off down the street.